


Pictures of You

by pringlesaremydivision



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-07-11
Updated: 2004-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pringlesaremydivision/pseuds/pringlesaremydivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin blinks. "You want a picture of - of Harry?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pictures of You

**Author's Note:**

> Just moving some stuff over from Livejournal.

Draco ambushes Colin Creevey outside the Great Hall before breakfast one morning, all flapping robes and menacing eyes. Colin looks around, finds no friendly faces, and so he braces himself for the hex he's sure is coming. He sends a brief thought to his mother and father, and prepares for a certain and horrible death.  
  
But when he peeks out from between his fingers, Draco is just standing there, wand nowhere in sight, a vaguely expectant look on his face.  
  
"Help you?" Colin squeaks, lowering his hands from his face, and then clears his throat. "Um. Can I help you?"  
  
"You're the one with the camera, right?" Draco whispers, harshly, and he too looks around, eyes darting back and forth, but for what, Colin can't imagine.  
  
Colin nods, and begins to tug the strap over his head. "Here, take it, I don't -"  
  
"Shut up, you idiot," Draco mutters, and Colin stops mid-movement. "I don't want your camera. I want -" he pauses, looks around again, and then leans in closely, so close that Colin count his eyelashes, if he were so inclined. "I know your little obsession with Potter. I'm sure you have pictures of him. Probably wank to them at night, don't you." Draco wrinkles his elegant nose slightly. "I want one."  
  
Colin blinks. "You want a picture of - of _Harry_?"  
  
Draco snaps his head back and looks around again, but there's still no one to be seen. "That's what I said, isn't it," he says, leaning back in. His breath smells of peppermint and something that might be raspberries.  
  
"But - _why_?" Colin knows that he is probably signing his own death warrant with every word he speaks that isn't 'yes' or 'sure' or 'here you go', but he can't help himself.  
  
"Do you like having all your appendages, Mudblood?" Draco asks in response, and reaches into his robes for what must be his wand.  
  
Colin digs frantically in his pockets. "Here, wait - wait a minute -" His fingers close upon a shiny, slick piece of paper, and he pulls it out, trembling a little.  
  
He hands it to Draco. "Will this do?" he asks, and thinks about what kind of terrible fate he must be sealing Harry with by assisting Draco like this, but the fact of the matter is, he does rather like having all of his appendages. He wonders what kind of curses require a photograph, and he makes a mental note to go to the library and look it up, if Draco doesn't end up killing him anyway, just for the fun of it.  
  
Draco takes the picture and studies it. Colin had taken it a few months ago, and had been planning on giving it to Harry himself, which is why it had been in his pocket. In it Harry is curled up in his favorite chair by the fire, head on one of the arms, eyes closed. The dancing firelight makes patterns on his sleeping face, and every so often he'll twitch, making his glasses slide further down his nose, but beyond that, he is still.  
  
"That's perfect," Draco says, and something in the tone of his voice makes Colin risk a glance up at his face. The set of his mouth, the lines of his cheeks - these are the same as always, defined and harsh. But there is something different, something new, in his eyes that Colin doesn't recognize - not that he spends a good deal of time staring into Draco's eyes, or any time at all, really, barring right now. If it weren't Draco, and if it weren't a picture of _Harry_ , Colin would be tempted to say that there is something like tenderness there, but that's completely absurd, absolutely ridiculous.  
  
As though Draco knows that Colin is looking at him looking at the picture, he stuffs it roughly into his pocket and straightens himself out, and that brief flash of whatever it was in his eyes that Colin saw disappears as suddenly as it came. "Tell anyone about this, Mudblood, and I'll smash that camera of yours," he says, and stalks away with, in Colin's mind, unnecessary haste. He keeps one hand in his pocket as he goes, and before he turns the corner Colin sees him pull the picture out and look at again. Colin thinks he glimpses the ghost of a smile on his profile as he turns, but he can't be sure, and then Draco is gone.  
  
Colin stands still for a moment and then makes his way into the Great Hall, shaking his head. 'Tell anyone about this,' honestly. As though he would voluntarily tell anyone that he'd assisted in turning Harry Potter into a chicken, or whatever it is that Draco is surely planning on doing.  
  
Poor Harry, Colin thinks, and hopes they won't send _him_ to Azkaban when the whole story comes out.


End file.
